


Our Hearts Burn So Bright

by sexystylinson



Series: burning [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Bottom Louis, Dominant Harry, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mental Illness, Monogamy, Mpreg, Mpreg Louis, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Harry, Protective Harry, Scary Harry, Submissive Louis, Top Harry, Violent Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-11-02 09:33:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20700662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sexystylinson/pseuds/sexystylinson
Summary: written by SS98“Well, well, well.” The monotonous beckoning was accompanied by a clicking heel ofundoubtedly ridiculous leather boots. Louis was putting his away his textbooks inexchange for his sketchpad in this ominous section of the school hallway until the voice ofsomeone who drove unsettling chills down his spine interrupted him. “If it isn’t the fairestprincess this old fuckin’ town ever did see.”Around this moment the sound of others followed the first and Louis released a tired sigh,slamming his locker door shut. He remembers the first time this estranged other corneredhim and seemed to preen at the sight of Louis’ fear, when the psychopath became knownas Harry Styles. Laughter used to follow any odd comment until Harry put a stop to it;none but he was entitled to the privilege of passing a remark towards Louis.“And the outlaw who defiled him.” Louis was ready when Harry turned him around,pressing the former’s back against the steel lockers with a smug grin.all credit goes to the fanfic writter SS98





	Our Hearts Burn So Bright

**Author's Note:**

> I did not write a single word of this fanfic nor did i have anything to do with this masterpiece. all credit goes to SS98 who had to delete their account accounts for certain safety reasons (they were getting shit for their fanfics apparently and decided to detach themselves from it )
> 
> once again i have nothing to do with the creation of this fanfic or have anytime to the original writer SS98 and all credit and love goes to them

“Well, well, well.” The monotonous beckoning was accompanied by a clicking heel of  
undoubtedly ridiculous leather boots. Louis was putting his away his textbooks in exchange for  
his sketchpad in this ominous section of the school hallway until the voice of someone who drove  
unsettling chills down his spine interrupted him. “If it isn’t the fairest princess this old fuckin’ town  
ever did see.”

Around this moment the sound of others followed the first and Louis released a tired sigh,  
slamming his locker door shut. He remembers the first time this estranged other cornered him and  
seemed to preen at the sight of Louis’ fear, when the psychopath became known as Harry Styles.  
Laughter used to follow any odd comment until Harry put a stop to it; none but he was entitled to  
the privilege of passing a remark towards Louis.  
“And the outlaw who defiled him.” Louis was ready when Harry turned him around, pressing the  
former’s back against the steel lockers with a smug grin.

Harry always chewed gum and how he hid it against the inside of his hollow cheek, satisfying the  
image of a terrifying squirrel. He had the bone structure of an immortal whose duty was seduction  
and the haunted green shade of his irises where the most stunning feature on the man.  
“It isn’t defilement when you beg as much as you did, baby.” A pair of lips was suddenly seeking  
Louis’ but what needed to be seen was captured already. Harry was denied his kiss when Louis  
turned away, hardly flinching when that edge of darkness crept into his companion. A forearm  
collided with the locker beside Louis’ head, blocking a route of escape. “Not in the mood,  
princess?”

Louis met Harry’s gaze apathetically and swiped his thumb over a red stain on the latter’s throat,  
digging his nail in merely to cause a wince. He showed Harry. “Carry make-up wipes with you  
from tomorrow, Styles.”  
And so the reality of their sick relationship crashed down once more. Harry met Louis a year ago  
and has since treated his boy as nobly as his bleeding morale would allow. However, being a man  
of little values meant Harry’s virtuous deeds had several cracks. They slept together once two  
months ago after Harry distinguished Louis as the one against whom all others paled in  
comparison. It fell apart when Harry’s inability to conform to monogamy overpowered his  
instincts.

Louis would draw blood from Harry before he allowed the man to touch his body again, but he  
knew the one thing reserved just for him were Harry’s kisses. The man’s lips never touched  
another’s besides Louis’; he did not watch slasher movies or publicly embrace anyone except  
Louis. He sat in the library with Louis before dates the latter was blackmailed into, carved a crown  
that fitted Louis’ finger from wood and came to the boy’s rescue when a trip to the grocery store  
got ugly from a violent protest.  
“Fine.” Harry sniffed and while a cruel glimmer floated in his eye, he said nothing. “Ready for  
your appointment?”

Other than emotional ruin, Louis was facing the inevitability of a horrible flu. He could not sleep  
with the pain that pounded across his skull or the nausea at dawn. Every morning he took enough  
painkillers to leave him numb for eight hours before Harry dropped off his lunch and reprimanded  
him for falling asleep in the gym under the bleachers.  
“Yeah.” Louis shoved his bag and books at Harry, knowing they would not fall, but kept his  
sketchpad. He started walking and Harry caught up to him, juggling all his possessions  
effortlessly.  
“Have you been feeling any better?” He asked, getting out the keys to his monstrous vehicle that’s  
isolated in the barren parking lot.

Louis briefly glanced out of the corner of his eye at the man. Something like exhaustion swept  
over him at the sight of nonchalance coupled with blissful self-preservation facing him in the form  
of the man who took his virginity and fell back again on the bodies of others. There were days  
when Louis felt like coping would not be a chore but more often it is true that Louis felt cheap.  
“Not really.” He admits, climbing into his usual seat behind the driver. Harry never allowed  
anyone to sit next to him even after he offered the seat to Louis but got turned down.  
Harry put Louis’ belongings in the boot before he gets behind the wheel. “Don’t want to be up  
front with me, princess?”

Louis heard that line every time he got in a car with Harry, and responded with his customary  
scoff before rolling down his window. He opened his sketchpad to the last drawing done this  
morning during a free period. There were eyes staring back at him and a passive part of him  
wished they’d only ever be on him.

* * * * *

It could not be. Louis heard his doctor’s words and almost succumbed to a faint when they were  
sufficiently processed. Pregnant. He’s been carrying a baby for nearly two months and had no  
idea; staring down now at his flat belly Louis could feel nothing except the stinging at the back of  
his eyes. The baby is Harry’s. His unborn child is fathered by a man who is as out of control as  
something nuclear and Louis was not going to let the truth slip lest Harry find out.  
He asked the doctor and attendant not to tell Harry, his closest companion and most frightening  
acquaintance, if he asked when they stepped outside. Louis freshened up and took as many deep  
breaths as would calm his frayed nerves. The reflection staring back at him in this clinical  
bathroom is shaking with rancid feelings clawing its way through him. He steeled himself at the  
clenching of his fists and assured himself that he’d be strong enough to get through this.  
Harry was out there waiting for him when Louis appeared out of the consultation room. He  
pushed off the wall and abandoned an untouched plastic cup of water to approach Louis, a smile  
on display just for him. Louis sank into the embrace that welcomed him and cursed himself for  
being a coward.

“There’s my boy.” Harry brought his lips to Louis’ temple, breathing in the untainted scent of  
flowers and citrus that followed Louis. “The doctor says it’s a mild bug. It’ll go away in a few  
days.”  
“Yeah.” Louis squeezed his eyes shut where he hugged Harry’s torso. “I think I’ll stay home for  
the next few days.”  
“Good idea, princess.” Harry removed his jacket, a heavy black denim coat that almost entirely  
hid Louis. “I’ll stay with you.”  
Louis’ breath hitched at the thought. He wanted Harry as far away from him as possible for the  
next couple of days, or hours even. But first, he brought them to a stop in the parking lot and faced  
the man. “Can I ask you something?”  
Harry didn’t bat an eye. He nodded stiffly and went on to open the front passenger side door for  
Louis, frosty air escaping through his forever chapped lips.  
“Do you use condoms?” Louis loathed thinking about Harry with others but a disease is not  
something he wants to worry about now. Harry did not use protection with him and he remembers  
it clearly.

The inquiry was not sufficient in perking Harry’s surprise or at least he was expertly disguising the  
curiosity. “Always.”  
“You didn’t with me.” Louis presses, ignoring the opened door and focusing on the man leaning  
against it.  
Harry’s eyes are too dark to track when they slither up the length of Louis’ body, from those  
spotless shoes to his slightly dishevelled hair. “Worried about something, princess?”  
“Yes.”  
“I only ever abandoned any precaution with you.” Harry sighed, his brows drawing together tight  
in a frown. “I’m clean and so are you.”  
Somehow, the reassurance did nothing to soothe the multiple aches burdening Louis’ chest as he  
opened his own door and folded his legs on the back-seat.

Harry acquiesced when Louis told him to fetch food from the only take-away that did not deliver  
in their town, and used the free twenty minutes to pack a bag. He would take a day or two for  
himself and now his baby. Money is scarce but Louis found enough for a motel room; he ordered  
a taxi for himself before locking the house and ignoring Harry’s texts. The man had not handled  
being left well once before when Louis needed to be alone, but this risk would be worth it.

* * * * *

The first time Louis met Harry he was the definition of horrified. Standing at six foot three and  
housing a degree of muscle that belonged on a violent sportsman, Harry was the epitome of what  
should be socially avoided. Louis learned to love the ring piercing Harry’s bottom lip and has  
memorised the outline of every tattoo. He was several inches shorter than the man that became his  
constant companion, a sinister guardian that haunted every thought, and chose poor karaoke over  
needles.

An outsider would say they’re closer than friends and more committed than lovers if any had the  
chance to observe their behaviour around one another. Harry went when Louis asked for a date to  
the festival near the harbour and broke the arm of someone who tried following Louis around. He  
tried introducing Louis to a night life but the boy merely fell asleep on his shoulder and Harry took  
him home immediately. The first time a beautiful person tried getting into Harry’s pants in Louis’  
presence, Harry faced assault charges.

That was when Louis realised his friend is nothing short of a walking nightmare. Harry could be  
ghastly if he was triggered and Louis’ seen it. Somehow, the man never wanted anyone to flirt  
with him when Louis was near; his time with Louis is just for them. It was more than just crazy  
and to witness the gruesome reproach only scared Louis further. Harry had many waiting to sleep  
with him but he’d treat them no differently from a vile offender if they dared come to him when  
Louis is beside him.

Nobody understood and none asked questions. When Louis needed a break from the cursed blood  
always on Harry’s bruised knuckles or the lipstick stains being heartlessly smeared across his  
chest, he took a trip to the beach with a tent and his sketchpad. Harry went ballistic at Louis’  
absence. He shouted and pounded on the boy’s door until he chose to sit on the porch and wait.  
For three days, he didn’t move except to pace across the patio. Louis came back with a jar of  
seashells under his arm and Harry was utterly calm, not a hint of his previous self-destruction  
when he kissed Louis and got in his car.

Not a soul would ever be able to comprehend Harry’s mentality, but Louis likes to think he can  
survive being his friend at least. Harry supports himself now that his parents died and left him  
nothing; he turned down money from his older sister to work instead. In any other age, Harry  
might have been a warrior but now he’s the victim of insanity.

* * * * *

Louis avoids contemplating the repercussions of his fleeing act for two hours in the dingy motel  
manned by an unsettling, sullen teenager. He eats cheap Chinese food and watches VHS tapes  
while sitting on the floor in just a T-shirt that Harry once owned, occasionally pausing to stare in  
awe at his belly. There’s a life in there, depending on him and being nurtured solely by him, soon  
to enter this world under his care. A life that he and many people’s fear created.

At an hour close to ten o’clock there’s a knock on the door, timeous with Louis’ call to the front  
desk asking for more towels. He barely greets the boy that brings them before a growing shadow  
emerges from the parking lot and shoves past the stranger to reach Louis. Harry found him. He is  
silent and void of anger while Louis takes his towels and swallows thickly before turning around  
from a closed door.

Harry must hear the way Louis’ heart thumps in his chest. He stares back at the man’s hooded  
gaze, clutching the crummy towels like a vice, and breathing shallowly. “You don’t think I learn  
from my mistakes, Louis?”  
Louis takes a step closer then and Harry watches him intently, coldly. “You followed me?”  
The man did not answer and instead raised the height of his chin, extending an arm towards Louis.  
He waits just like always for the offer to be denied or accepted, the heat of his attention burning  
like coal into Louis’ skin. “Come here, princess. I want to meet my child.”

“Huh?” Louis was safe in his standing before but the volatility in Harry’s deranged glare is deeply  
disconcerting. He shakes his head and steps back towards the door. “How did you…-Who told  
you?”

“The doctors.” Harry stalks forward to annihilate the distance separating them, a thump echoing  
through the room when he drops to his knees. “Now, princess. Come here.”  
Louis takes a hesitant step nearer to where Harry is kneeling, motionless and patient. He holds the  
man’s gaze upon reaching before being caught around the waist by two overpowering arms.  
Harry embraces his hips, breathing raggedly against Louis’ front. “I told them not to tell you.”  
“I know.” Harry nuzzled his way into Louis’ warmth, locking both arms around his boy. “I know  
when you’re sick, baby, and this isn’t one of those times. It’s simple enough to get the truth when  
everyone’s afraid of me.”

“I’m not.” Louis is quick to state. He winces at the coarseness of his own voice. “Harry, I don’t  
know what to do.”  
“That’s alright.” Harry responds, unwavering in his posture. He slips his arms under Louis’ shirt  
and shudders audibly at bare skin contact. “I’m going to take care of you and my baby.”  
Louis let his head fall back a bit, forgetting to wipe the stray tears that flowed with no reservation.  
He blinked away blurriness from his vision to look at his favourite and only true friend holding  
onto him. “Our baby cannot have a father who sleeps around.”

“They won’t.” Harry parted his jaws and sunk his teeth harmlessly into Louis’ lush skin, moaning  
at the warmth of expulsion of comfort it brought him. “I will be as loyal to our child as I’ll be to  
the ring in my pocket.”

**Author's Note:**

> the end of another amazing fanifc written by SS98


End file.
